Remember When It Rained
by TChallaInTheBathTub
Summary: Sherlock and John get into a fight that ends with a bruise on one and guilt inside the other. This is a SLASH story.


**Warnings:**A curse or two. M/M relationship. Main character getting punched!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson or Christmas!

**A/N:** This was inspired by Josh Groban's song, Remember When It Rained. I honestly don't know how this story worked out like this, it's started as something then turned into this (_way off the song_!). Hopefully it doesn't sound too... bad?  
>Another note: This Fic is unbetaed, mistakes are mine alone, feel free to point anything you might find =)<p>

:::

They fight. They make up and they fight again. Every relationship has its ups and downs and John knew that, but sometimes it's just too much. Sometimes being with Sherlock was too much. He was mad, hell he was beyond mad when he stormed out of the flat leaving Sherlock on the floor with a shocked look. He didn't mean to punch Sherlock, he really didn't but he was just so mad.

It's been almost an hour since John left Baker Street. He didn't know where to go or what to do with himself. Everything seemed too dark for him although lights were everywhere. On trees, on doors and even on some people! John did not want to ask why, so he just kept on walking and clearing his head. He felt something cold touches his face and he looked up the sky, it started to snow. He closed his eyes and stood there feeling the cold creeping inside of him, turning his blood into ice. A few second passed and the guilt started to sit in. God, he felt so stupid, why did he have to hit Sherlock! Sure he went too far, but to hit him. That was crossing the line and John knew he could not take back what he did, ever. He felt miserable and alone despite the crowded street and the voices of holiday spirit around him.

He opened his eyes. The sky was dark, like how he felt right now. The snow was covering him, but he didn't mind so much because he needed something, anything to make him act. A snowflake landed on his cheek then slide down leaving a cold trace on his face, just like a tear. John ran. He ran as fast as he could with his mind racing with all the possibilities of what he'll find back home. Sherlock was gone and left him was the worst. No, he can't think like that. Sherlock might be an idiot when it comes to relationships and feelings, but he is not a total idiot, is he?

John reached 221B. He stood in front of the door with hands on his knees and breathing hard. Maybe a cab would've been a good idea, the rational part of his brain told him, but hell why should he listen to that part now? where was it before John screwed up the whole night for both himself and his partner! He waited for a few minutes to slow down his breathing then unlocked the door.

The flat was quiet. Mrs. Hudson was visiting a relative, so the place was theirs for the holidays, unless of course Mycroft decided to show up which made John shudder. He does not want to think about spending Christmas with both Holmes' brothers. He shook his head, took a breath then climbed up the stairs. Heart pounding from the fear of what he might find, or not find in this case.

Sherlock wasn't there. John heart stopped for a second. The flat was the same way as he left it, but he wasn't away for long so it wasn't a big surprise. He took off his jacket and throw it on the couch then looked at the room. His eyes fell on the spot where Sherlock was lying when he left, guilt strikes him again harder and he groans. He should not have done that and now Sherlock was not here and he couldn't apologize for his stupid behavior.

"What took you so long?"

John was so deep in his thoughts he literally jumped when he heard Sherlock's voice behind him.

"Jesus," he was holding his chest and looking at his flatmate. "Don't do that."

"What?" Sherlock looked genuinely confused.

"That. Sneaking up behind me like that."

"I thought you liked it when I sneak up behind you!"

"I do, but..." John sighed and Sherlock smirked.

There was a long moment of awkward silence and John still couldn't bring himself to look at Sherlock's eyes. When finally he gathered his courage to say something, Sherlock left to the kitchen. He came back to find John sitting on the couch bowing his head with both hands pulling on his hair.

"Stop. I like your hair like that, don't mess it up." He said sitting next to John who lifted his head and looked at him. Sherlock could see the guilt running all over John's face when he saw the bruise under Sherlock's eye.

"I am so sorry." John said in low voice.

Sherlock didn't say anything, but looked ahead and John felt his chest tighten. The silence stretch for a long time, neither one of them moving, Shoulder touching and knees brushing. Finally, Sherlock turned his head and looked at John.

"I know you are. I am too" Was all he said before getting up and leaving the room.

John watched him leave. He messed it up real bad this time, he felt sick. He couldn't move, he sat down staring at Sherlock's skull that was staring right back at him. He's going to miss that skull, silly but true. If Sherlock decided that this was it. He'll miss everything about his mad lover, the experiments, the violin, the near death experiences, and even the criminals of London. He sighed and rubbed his face. God, he was tired.

"Why did you do that?"

John jumped again, Sherlock needs to stop doing that or else John will have a heart attack or something. Sherlock was standing at the door holding a suitcase. John's heart fell down his chest hitting the floor, he could swear he heard it smash. He cleared his throat to answer without his voice breaking.

"Pardon?"

"Why did you wipe your face?" Sherlock frowned at him.

"Umm, I..." He honestly did not know how to answer that.

"There was a trace on your face. A line cause by something wet like a water drop!"

"Oh, that," John shifted on the couch trying not to catch Sherlock's eyes. "Snow."

"I see."

Sherlock entered their living room, dropped the case on the floor then stood in front of him. John looked between him and the suitcase then settled his look on Sherlock. "You're leaving..." Saying the words left a horrible feeling deep inside, but he pushed it away. Sherlock raised both eyebrows. Without saying a word he leaned down touching John's cheek and moving his thump over the tear line until it's gone before kissing him softly. He got up and opened the suitcase to reveal what's in it. It was full of different types of Christmas decorations. John was baffled.

"Why would I leave? This is my home, John" He said smiling a small smile at John. "Mrs. Hudson told me about her secret stash of Christmas stuff in the attic. I thought we might get a tree."

At that moment John knew, this was Sherlock's way of saying _"It's all alright, you're forgiven. We'll be alright."_He couldn't help but to grin at his idiot lover.

"That would be lovely." He said getting up and sitting next to Sherlock.

"I will never understand the point of all this..." Sherlock was babbling at his normal speed while fighting with tangled lights. Yes, they'll be alright with time.


End file.
